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Show THE JUDGE'S FLIRTATION. "In the old, old days," said the judge, "when I was in my senior year in Columbia, (I decline to mention the exact time, for some of you youngsters will be trying your skill in arithmetic on me, but I was a much older fellow than I am now) I had been here for the Christmas holidays, and was to start next morning for New York to resume my work. In those days a journey from the interior of the State to New York city was, speaking after the manner of men, only a less serious matter than death. Indeed, among the country people very much the same preparation was made for each, as far as putting all business affairs on a post mortem footing went, with a view of making a settlement easy ‘in case anything happened,' as it was quite likely to do. A summer journey was undertaken only under the most urgent stress of business, as the time occupied and the expense incurred, were things to be thought over and talked over before being realized. Of course we had steamboats, such as they were; but to the farmers in the retired districts the idea of going to ‘York' in a steamboat was about as practicable as it would be to talk about crossing the ocean in a balloon in these latter times. They much preferred the cheaper and safer sloops and other sail vessels which made regular trips between Albany and New York for the accommodation of passengers. "If a summer journey required all this forethought, for one undertaken in the winter, when we were obliged to cross the river and other streams hardly less dangerous on the ice, in a heavily laden coach drawn by four horses, to break our way through deep snow drifts, or to go to the wheels' depth in mud, the risk was very much enhanced. The advertised time for the winter trip was three or four days, and the small wayside taverns where we used to ‘put up' at night are still standing. The promise as to time was rarely kept, depending, as it did, on the condition of the roads, and the last day of the journey we generally rode pretty well into the night. I remember very well being on the road eight days during my college years, when the passengers were obliged to pry the coach out of the mud several times, but as this doesn't seem to be intimately connected with my theme I'll defer it. "Charley R- was my companion, and had been home with me for the holidays. A nice, clever chap enough, and to this day my good friend, but as a boy he was too effeminate to be very popular among his hardy classmates. He had remarkably small hands and feet like a girl's, and, we used to say, was proud of them. I could never understand why Charley, with his soft, womanish ways and manners, should take to the church; but he did brave and effective work on the Western frontier, when it required as much courage to be a missionary as to lead a forlorn hope. "We were obliged to go twenty-seven miles by private conveyance to reach Albany, from which place the stage started. We arrived there about ten o'clock in the evening, and enjoyed our night of freedom at the then famous Congress Hall - enjoyed it almost too well, we thought next morning, when we came down to the dimly-lighted breakfast-room, shivering and dispirited. "It was the custom for the stage to go round from house to house to collect the passengers, the seats being secured in advance, like boxes at the opera; so when it drove up to the hotel that dismal morning it was filled, with the exception of the two places which we had bespoken, on the middle seat, where the only support to the back was a swaying leather strap, and the other on the front. We could see dimly by the driver's lantern that the two occupants of the front seat were an elderly gentleman, looking very cross, and evidently an invalid, and a pretty, fresh-looking young girl, rolled up to the eyes in a fur-hood mantle, and, as I found out later, the old man's daughter. I don't think I ever saw so sweet a-" "Come, come, Morris," interrupted Mrs. Cooper, the judge's wife, "don't go into particulars or you won't finish to-night." "Charley had the good luck to get in first, and of course seized upon the seat by the pretty girl's side, leaving me to share mine with an old lady who took snuff, and carried a carpet bag upon her lap, poking me in the side with the brass rod that fastened it, when she did not crush my feet by letting it slide to the floor. With the daylight came a general straightening up, and a putting of ourselves in better shape, excepting the pretty girl, who was, from the first, distractingly graceful and sweet. I glared jealously at Charley, who was beaming with satisfaction, and already trying to be attentive, in a brotherly way, to his fair neighbor. ‘Was she comfortable?' ‘Had she sufficient room?' And I was delighted to see that further civilities were not encouraged by the daughter, and that the father looked at my friend over the collar of his camlet coat in a way to snub a much braver lad than Charley. "Well, we jotted weary mile after weary mile, with nothing to break in upon the dullness of the still, white road. We would toil heavily up-hill, stop to breathe the horses, and slip down the other side almost as heavily, the wheels being held by the stout brakes. Once in a while we would hurl up with a great flourish and racket to the tavern, and, if the hour suited, we stopped for dinner or whatever meal was due. Sometimes we accepted the driver's advice to ‘get out and stretch your legs' - counsel that poor little Charley would gladly have realized in person. "It was on our third day's ride, while taking a brisk walk back and forth on the road, that I got to talking more freely with the pretty girl's father, and learned that his name was Gardiner; that he was traveling for his health, that he was now on his way to Newburgh to visit a married daughter. In return I told him my name, the same as my father's; where I lived; where I was going; and in the free and easy confidence of youth was making a long story of it, when it was checked by his telling me that father and he were old friends and classmates, and without having seen each other for thirty years, he had no doubt Morris Cooper remembered him well. "Then we were thrown into the depths of despair by being told they expected to reach Newburgh by nine o'clock that evening. I was nearly frantic with all sorts of desperate thoughts going through my head. Should I go into the house and order mulled wine for the party, giving a hint to have one made very strong, and give it in the hope that it might make her watchful sentinel sleep on his post? I had once heard of its being tried with success, but I lacked the courage for it. And this was to be the end - to shake hands, say good-bye, and go on our ways! You will laugh if I talk about my three-days' old love, though I believe it had really come to that. How I hoped that an accident might happen, that we might collide with something, though it wasn't the fashion then to collide; and if a horse had gone lame or the coach tipped over, I should have regarded it as a special blessing. "But fate sometimes will bring us our desires in a matter-of-course way so natural and simple that we overlook it in our high-strung moods; and thus came my deliverance. I had noticed that Mr. Gardiner seemed uneasy and nervous about something - that he had loosened the mighty brass clasp that fastened his cloak, and had made vain attempts to unbutton the leather curtain at the side that he might admit the air. Both failing, he leaned across to me and whispered: "‘Would you object to changing seats with me? It disagrees with me to ride backward, and I feel quite ill.' "Object! I couldn't believe my ears, and in my eager delight and haste sprang to my feet, fearing he might change his mind and cheat me of my blissful chance. I tried to steady my voice and take a little of the evident joy out of it before saying, "‘Certainly, I am sorry you did not speak before.' And with the most hypocritical carefulness helped him to my place, hoping the air would revive him sufficiently to relieve his illness, but not make another change of seats possible. "We changed just as the day began to face, and she was to leave the coach in a few hours, and I should never see her again! You can imagine my desperation, so I will spare you the recital, only waiting to say that, if you think it an exaggerated state of feeling, you must remember that in those days young people did not take those matters in their own hands. Young girls were then surrounded by many prim formalities that would be laughed at now; but I never lost my admiration for a flair blossom of a girl, having many of the sweet ways of the violet, especially its quality of shyness. In short, such girls as present company. "I was happy enough at first in merely sitting beside the charming girl and watching in the half-light her sweet, comforting face, anxiety for her father being uppermost in it now. But the old gentleman presently settled down into a heavy sleep, evidently relieved of his vertigo. "During my exile on the middle seat I had thought of many bright things to say, if I could only have the chance, but now they were all gone. I made an awkward protest against the time going so swiftly, or something equally intelligent, and felt relieved when we stopped to change horses. On getting back again into the coach, I had the felicity of holding the young lady's muff while she adjusted her wraps. I even passed the cord attached to it over her head as she resumed her seat, which was something more of a favor than had been accorded Charley. Then, growing bolder, I folded her mantle around her, that had slipped from its place, and she thanked me in a way that was entrancing. "So far, you will see, nothing very original had been said, nor any advance made toward intimate acquaintance, but it was enough to fill me with delight and make me forget everything, except that our time was short. Papa was asleep, but you may depend there was no sleep in our young eyes. We had some small talk among ourselves, during which she referred to my being on my way to ‘school' making me feel as young as the respectable butler did David Copperfield. I took special care to say ‘college' with strong emphasis, and refer to my graduating the coming summer in a tone that had a strong flavor of mannishness in it. "In the meantime, we were riding fast toward the dreaded hour, and I was wretched with the thought of never seeing the dear girl again. For three days we had been together, and it was the one blessing of an old stage-coach that hours did the work of weeks in the way of making friends or enemies, for I am sure I hated the snuffy old woman as much as if I'd known her twenty years. And now a lurch of the coach forced me into a position most delightfully close to her side, and with my hand resting on her muff-an old-fashioned, generous muff, in which you could lose one of the toy affairs of the present day. Presently, from the outside I shyly passed my hand inside the muff, and I can remember nothing in my afterlife that has made me so entirely happy as when in that warm covert I felt her little hand clasp mine. I wished that the road would lengthen out indefinitely, and that nine o'clock could be postponed a week or two. The truth is, I felt like having a good cry as I whispered in a shaky voice, ‘You will not forget me?' Yes, I said something much tenderer than this, but I cannot go on with my story if Mrs. Cooper looks at me in that way." "Go on, dear, tell it all; only don't draw on your imagination too much," said his laughing wife. "Did I say before that we had the coach to ourselves by this time? The other passengers had been dropped at intervals along the road. The old gentleman was sleeping. Charley had scarcely spoken for an hour, and I was waiting in an agony of dread the minute when the driver would shout the fatal word. I suppose the wretched creature did right to anticipate our arrival at Newburgh with a yell loud enough to wake the dead, rousing papa to an upright position, as well as a knowledge of his whereabouts. "Come, Nora," he said, with a yawn, "here we are, and with this horrible river to cross again. Is everything ready, my dear?" "In one moment," she said, as the coach stopped, giving my hand a closer clasp before withdrawing it forever. "Mr. Gardiner expressed himself with great friendliness, sent kind messages to father, hoped we might meet again, shook hands, and stepped down in the deep snow. "In one moment, papa," she repeated. And then, in a lower tone that he might not hear her, "Pardon me, Mr. Cooper, but if you and your friend are now through with my muff I shall have to trouble you for it, and I hope you both found it comfortable. Thank you. Good-night." And she took her father's hand and left us both stunned. "Even now, I cannot recall this without a feeling of shame. Think of us two boobies squeezing each others' hands for two mortal hours! I wasn't so much to blame, for Charley's hands were small and delicate as a woman's, but think of his pressing such a hand as that, and supposing it belonged to Nora Gardiner! I had a mind to cuff him for the insult to her, but it was too ridiculous for anything but laughing, and laugh we did, though there was more noise than mirth in it." Charley's excuse was, that seeing his lovely neighbor kept only one hand in her muff, and desiring to make some tender demonstration before parting, he thought it wouldn't be amiss to capture and hold it, and was surprised when the indignant hand was withdrawn. Before he could follow suit it seems I was seized with the same desire, and he thought she was relenting. And there sat Nora behind her muff, her own hands half frozen, enjoying our coming discomfiture, but looking like a prim little saint, into whose heart no thought of mischief ever entered. It was very queer, but without exacting a promise from each other, I don't think either of us ever told the story, though the temptation to do so was great." "But, tell us, judge, did you never see the pretty girl again? and what became of Charley?" queried his listener. "My dear, I am glad to have interested you enough to have you care to know that Charley is a right reverend father in the church, and well has he earned his promotion. As for Nora, I think she must have gone down to look after our little supper. Suppose we follow her?" "Ah, judge," said the girl, "but Mrs. Cooper's name is not Nora Gardiner at all, but Mary Robertson, so you may have cheated us about the rest of it, too." "No, my dear child, every word of it is true; but I did try the subterfuge familiar to my craft, and provided my wife with an alias. I could not give you in advance the only point in my poor little story. But let us go down to supper. It is getting late." |